This was it.
She searched the area where she stood. In the distance, the Palace of Mirrors loomed. From the perspective it didn’t take long to find the path that stretched back toward the building. Tiki followed the trail, ducking under thorny branches that were thick enough to be tree limbs. She kept a constant lookout for any guards or soldiers who might be patrolling the Garden but she was alone.
The trail wound back and forth but it wasn’t long until Tiki stood next to the palace. The building was elaborately decorated. Among the arches and columns were figures and gargoyles carved into the ancient stone. In some ways the facade reminded Tiki of Westminster Abbey. But among the ornate design there was nothing that looked like a door.
Tiki chewed her lip in frustration. Why couldn’t she see it? She had to get inside—it had to be here. She imagined the grand hallway lined with doors. Dain had taken her through the last door—where was it?
Suddenly the answer hit her—Larkin had spoken of those thirteen doorways, and especially the doorway that led up to Fial’s spying post—‘I’m surprised you were able to find it. Fial had concealed the entrance with powerful magic. You should have been diverted to the Night Garden.’ The Jester, so much more powerful than they had ever guessed, had protected all those doorways with some kind of concealing magic—both inside and out—she was sure of it.
She began assessing the building again—but in a different way. This time she tried to see through a glamour. “I can do this,” Tiki whispered to herself. “I am the true-born queen, I can see through glam—” she stopped as something peculiar caught her eye. She studied that section of the wall. Between each of the elaborately turned round columns were shadows—with straight lines. Shadows of straight lines that round columns wouldn’t cast. She glanced down the side of the building and counted the strange sets of lines—thirteen. A thrill of excitement shot through her.
She’d found them.
Tiki made her way to the last section and studied what she believed to be the door. There was no obvious handle—no way to gain entry.
“Think like the Jester,” she whispered to herself— “how would Fial disguise the handle?” The door was incorporated into the arches and peaks that made up the building. Tiki studied the intricate architecture. The answer was before her—but where?
Then she saw it—carved within a small, four-sided floret sat a man wearing a familiar three-point hat. In one hand he held a staff with a Celtic cross at the top—just like the pin Rieker had found in the Jester’s spying room—and in the other he held two large keys.
Tiki held her breath and reached for the keys. She wrapped her fingers around the cool stone and pulled. As silent as a whisper the door opened.
She was in.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Tiki peered around the edge of the door. She was in a shadowed space behind one of the many huge columns that lined the hallway. She slipped inside and pulled the door closed. In the distance the raucous noise of the celebration in the Great Hall spilled down the hallway like water tumbling over a riverbed. She glanced around the column and into the hallway. A pair of UnSeelie lords, their heads bent together deep in conversation, strolled toward her. Behind them a faun pranced alone, a petulant look on his face. Up ahead, two guards stood at the entrance that led into the Great Hall. Another pair stood at the entrance at the other end of the hallway.
Tiki thought fast. She would need an excuse to enter the Great Hall to see if Rieker, Dain and Clara were really being held as Ailléna had described. In a moment of inspiration she whispered the words and changed her glamour. Taking a deep breath, she rounded the column and walked down the hallway as if she belonged here at the UnSeelie Court. She ignored the guards and made to pass into the Great Hall but they moved at the same time and dropped their speared staffs to block her way. The taller of the two spoke first.
“Name yourself.”
Tiki arched a thick woody eyebrow and stared him in the face. “Really? You don’t recognize me?” Her blood was ice in her veins and all the anger and hatred she felt towards Donegal fueled the emotion in her voice. “I suggest you learn before I’m forced to teach you.”
“She’s Fachtna,” the other guard muttered. “Donegal’s witch.” He flipped his spear upright to allow passage.
“Precisely.” Tiki nodded at him. She turned back to the first guard and pointed a knobby branch-like finger that ended in a razor-sharp tip. “Perhaps I’ll take your left eye to add to my collection and you may keep the scar—the better to remember me next time.”
The guard jerked his staff away and stepped back.
Fachtna inclined her head ever so slightly but her expression didn’t soften. “A wise decision.” Tiki swept past them into the Great Hall. She hadn’t taken two steps when her gaze was drawn upward toward the ceiling. There, to the right of the Dragon Throne, suspended high above the crowd like some kind of ghastly chandelier—was the golden net. Inside the ropes, a small body hung there, curled in a ball like a little kitten.
Clara.
A wave of such immense relief went through Tiki her knees went weak. She couldn’t see the child’s face, but the curve of her back, the blond curls that poked through the net, were unmistakable. Clara was alive.
Tiki dropped her eyes and forced herself to keep walking. How was she possibly going to get Clara down without being seen? The room was crowded with all manner of cavorting UnSeelie fey. Guards were plentiful too, watching the goings-on with grim expressions.
Shaken, Tiki glanced toward the Dragon Throne and stopped dead in her tracks. Behind the throne stood Dain and Rieker. Ailléna had been correct—they were ‘strung up’—both held captive by ropes that bound their wrists above their heads. Guards stood on each side of them. Tiki didn’t give herself time to become scared. Larkin wasn’t here to be brave for her anymore. She had to be brave for herself.
She sauntered toward the prisoners, quickly debating how she could possibly get them free. Both Dain and Rieker had their heads down and hadn’t seen her yet. A million questions swirled through her head. Did they know Larkin was dead? Would they recognize her in this glamour? What clue could she give them?
“And here we have the traitors.” She spoke in the same arrogant voice that Larkin had used when disguised as Fachtna. Actually—Tiki mentally corrected herself—Larkin had sounded arrogant all the time. Yet, somehow it pleased her that in this moment she could pull off the same level of confidence that Larkin had exuded all the time. Perhaps she had learned more from the faerie than she realized.
At her words, both Dain and Rieker raised their heads. She saw a flash of recognition in Rieker’s eyes before they went blank again. She leisurely circled him as though assessing his worth, then pivoted to walk in a figure eight around Dain.
“What fun and games does Donegal have planned for our little pets?”
The guards glanced at each other. “He hasn’t said, mum, but I believe they’re bait for the Seelie Queen.”
“Her.” Tiki sneered. “She’s not smart enough to confront the Winter King in his own Court now that Larkin is dead. Your prisoners might starve to death before she ever shows up—and then what good are they to you?”
One of the guards coughed. Thickly built, with hair as black as a tar pit, he reminded Tiki of a bulldog. “You’re right. She’s probably hiding in London as she likes to do.”
The other guard snickered. He was smaller than either Rieker or Dain, but well-muscled and armed with multiple knives embedded in leather straps that crisscrossed the front of his chest. The blades glittered in the torchlight.
“You’re right, mum. We should probably feed ‘em to the hounds like his Majesty did with the Jester.”
Tiki stopped and pointed a branch-like finger at him. “Now that is a brilliant idea. Did you see it? Did the hounds like the taste of the Fool’s flesh?”
The guards cast a wary glance at each other. “Didn’t actually see it, but we all heard his cries when the hounds go
t him. Screamed like a little girl.”
A chill crawled up Tiki’s arms. Who had Donegal really fed to the hounds—and how callous and uncaring could these men be? But they were UnSeelie—they’d been taught to murder and kill their entire lives. Even if she could get rid of Donegal and created one realm—could they be taught to live a different way?
Tiki tossed her head at the prisoners. “Are they wounded?”
The black-haired guard jabbed the wooden end of his staff into Dain’s ribs. “Not enough.”
Dain’s body jerked with the thrust but he closed his eyes and clamped his lips shut.
“Donegal wants me to bring the prisoners to him,” Tiki snapped. “A little interrogation, I believe.” She held out her hand. “Give me their ropes.”
“You can’t mean to take them yourself,” the smaller one cried. “They could attack you.”
“She’s Fachtna—” the other one whispered. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I don’t think these two—” she sneered down her nose at Dain and Rieker— “are much of a threat to me. Besides, I’m not taking them far.” She snapped her fingers and chains appeared around the ankles of both young men. “There—I’ll fetter their feet if it makes you feel better.” Tiki looked over at the guards. “The ropes, please?”
The guards look warily at each other.
“Perhaps we should escort you,” the shorter one said
“No need.” Tiki motioned at the ropes that held their arms. “Cut them loose.”
The shorter one shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But it’d be our heads if they escaped or did any harm to you, mum.”
Tiki reached out and her branch-like arm extended until the knobby limbs of her fingers tightened around the guard’s throat. “And it will be your head if you don’t do as I ask.”
The panicked look on the guard’s face convinced the other to act. He hurried to the wall where the ropes where tied to a pulley and released the lever. As soon as the tension released, both Dain and Rieker’s shoulders sagged. They grimaced in pain as they slowly lowered their arms below their heads.
Fachtna stepped close and glared at both of them. “Test my patience and you will be dead faster than you can say Fate never crushed those who Truth never deceived.” She yanked the ropes out of the guard’s hands and tugged Dain and Rieker behind her. “Follow me.”
EVERY EYE IN the room was on them as Fachtna led the shuffling prisoners out of the Great Hall. Tiki fought the terrible sensation that the guards were going to call her bluff and attack from behind.
“Make way,” she snapped, pretending she was Larkin and shooing people out of her way as they wove through the crowd. The guards at the entrance stood straight as she led the prisoners through the passageway into the corridor. She gave the ropes a light snap as she turned toward the Royal Chambers. “Hurry up—The Winter King is waiting for us.”
“Fachtna!”
Tiki jerked around in surprise. An unfamiliar guard dressed entirely in black hurried toward them. Long, straight black hair was pulled behind his head. He wore a gold pin against his chest and gold buttons shone from his vest. Fear coiled in her stomach. Tiki had never seen a guard dressed such as he, but the black and gold were too similar to the way Donegal dressed not to be of concern. Whoever he was, he was a man of power.
“Come with me.” It was a command. “Donegal has left his chambers. He has requested your counsel in another location.”
Tiki tried to hide how tense she was. “And who are you?”
The man stopped before her, his gaze briefly assessing Rieker and Dain, before he gave Tiki a stiff bow. “Perhaps you don’t remember our previous introduction. I am Kieran.”
Tiki blinked rapidly to hide her shock. “I do remember you now—as I recall, you were impertinent the last time we met.”
His nostrils flared as though he found humor in her comment but his lips didn’t smile. “One of my many flaws. Come,” he turned and beckoned to her, “we must not keep the king waiting.” As he straightened Tiki was able to get a closer look at the gold pin on his breast. It was a golden circle, with a man in a sitting position holding a staff topped with Celtic cross in one hand and keys in the other.
Tiki pointed down the hallway toward the thirteen doors. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Kieran walked briskly as he led them down the hallway, stopping several doors past the entry that led up to the spying post. He pulled the door open, motioning with his hand, “After you—quickly now.”
The Night Garden lay frozen on the other side of the doorway. Tiki hurried through the opening but instead of walking into the garden, she stood in a circular room that was filled with more doors. As soon as Dain and Rieker were in the room she removed the fetters on their ankles.
“Let me see your arms,” Tiki said. “We need to get these off.” The ropes were laced with iron and burned as she touched them. She couldn’t imagine being bound for a long period of time.
Fial closed the door. “Quickly, if you please. Remove your glamour, Tara, so you will be able to see where you’re walking. It’s very dark.”
“Fial?” Dain asked softly. “And Tiki?”
“Yes.” Fial swept by them. “Better not to talk for now.”
Rieker squeezed Tiki’s hand as they followed the darkly-garbed Fial around the circle to the right and opened the seventh door. “As quickly as you can go—hurry now. We’ve not much time.”
Tiki led the way down a flight of dark stone stairs, the tunnel becoming darker with each step reminding Tiki of the UnSeelie fort.
“Keep going,” Fial said from behind. “We’ll light a torch at the bottom.”
The stones were rough and Tiki ran her hands along the walls to keep her balance. The stairway twisted down and around until she had the sense they were in the very bowels of the Tor. When they finally reached level ground Tiki only walked far enough so the four of them could stand together then she waited for Fial to take the lead.
He hurried in front and lit a torch that waited in a wall mounting as if for that very purpose. Flames jumped and shimmied, lighting the darkness. He smiled at each of them one by one. “Good—very good. We are alive, we are together. Let us take care of these ropes.” He handed Tiki the torch and ran his hands over the material that was still tied around Rieker’s and Dain’s wrists. The iron-laced rope dropped free as if cut away.
“Thank you,” Dain said as he rubbed his wrists. Rieker echoed his words.
“And now we shall take care of my brother.”
“But we have to get Clara,” Tiki protested. “She’s—”
“I know where she is, my dear—believe me, I know where little Clara is. We cannot get to her. There is only one way to free the child—we must take on Donegal in his own den.
Rieker spoke for the first time. “What’s your plan?”
Fial nodded at Tiki. “Tara has been gathering our generals. They wait at the Plain of Sunlight for her order to attack. I have been marshalling any UnSeelies who might defect to our side. The hobgoblins are with us as well as many of the homeless faeries. We’ll see who else might join us.”
“And what are we going to do?” Dain asked.
Fial looked at Tiki. “You have the Four Treasures?”
She nodded. “They are mine to command.”
“Good. We are going to get word to our soldiers to gather just beyond the Night Garden. The four of us will be inside the Palace—they will be outside. Dawn arrives at five thirty-five. We will strike exactly one hour before.”
“Where?”
“In the Great Hall, of course. We’ll cut Clara down first, then as she is carried to safety—” Fial’s face hardened— “we will show that murderer the same mercy he showed to Larkin.”
“But he hasn’t been in the Great Hall,” Tiki said. “They say he is in the High Chamber—”
“I promise you—he will come out—we will give him a reason
to come out.”
TIKI TRANSPORTED TO the Plain of Sunlight and relayed the plan to the Macanna generals.
“You must be prepared—the UnSeelie troops are everywhere. Dig in if you must—whatever you need to do to survive.”
“We are ready,” they assured her.
She went by Larkin’s chambers for one last look. As she stepped into the drawing room that was a perfect reflection of Grosvenor Square Tiki’s heart caught in her chest. Would she ever see this room again—in either world? Memories danced before her eyes of the times she’d spent with her family here—of the hopes and dreams she’d held for their future and tears welled in her eyes. The Faerie Queen’s mirror was on a nearby table where she’d left it and on impulse, she went to the mirror and lifted it. But instead of her face she saw Larkin’s beautiful features speaking to her: ‘I want you to be the queen you were born to be.’
Infinite sadness filled Tiki. “I will be, Breanna,” she whispered. “I am the Faerie Queen.” Tiki blinked and it was her own teary reflection staring back at her. Shaking, she took one last look around the room.
“MAJESTY—” TORAN HAD a pleading look on his face— “let me come with you. It’s my job,” he hesitated, “and you might need me.”
Tiki remembered the torment she had caused Callan, her first bodyguard, by denying him the satisfaction of fulfilling a responsibility he was honored to hold. He had died for her and she would never forget his sacrifice, but part of her understood that he would have died in a different way if he hadn’t fulfilled his duty in protecting her by giving his life for hers.
“Meet me at the Palace of Mirrors one hour before dawn and you may guard my back from that moment forward as long as I’m in the Otherworld.”
TIKI RETURNED TO the dark tunnel where Fial, Dain and Rieker waited.
The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4) Page 23
